


On a Good Day

by Sonamae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Grace Sharing, M/M, Monsters, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonamae/pseuds/Sonamae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is Dean Winchester's Good Day of the week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a Good Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Nat over on tumblr because I love her and she commissioned it. Also, apparently, a birthday gift for my editor because she flipped a table of emotions over this.

There was no reaper looming over him, no light at the end of the tunnel, no life flashing before his eyes.  Still, even without all the signs, Dean still knew he was dieing.  He'd lost most, if not all of his blood, and he was pretty sure his stomach and most of his intestines were across the room by now.  Despite that, there was no pain, so Dean knew he was in shock, vision going fuzzy as he watched what was left of his lower half get chewed between muzzle and fangs of whatever it was in front of him.  A split second mistake that wasn't even a mistake had led him to this.  He hadn't expected anything to be here, this hadn't even been a hunt!  He'd just been looking for a place to crash for the night before he met up with Sam tomorrow.

 He'd never seen this type of creature before, but he knew it had been hungry.  It had sprung right out of the carcass of a mutilated deer and barreled him over, claws ripping him apart before he'd even had a chance to scream.  It was all too close to the hellhound, only this time faster and aiming for something.  Dean felt blood flood his throat before it bubbled over his tongue and poured down his lips, one last tingle of feeling across his skin before... nothing.

 Except that wasn't right, because there was a sudden blinding white light and a scream so ethereal it shattered all the windows.  If Dean could have moved he would have covered his ears, but he couldn't, so he felt blood pulse and burst as his eardrums busted and everything got swallowed in darkness of a blistering kind.  It felt like forever that he'd just been laying in the dark, everything being blanketed by a sense of numbness that overrode the feeling of blood on his skin or pain in any part of him.  Slowly though, one by one, his senses came back to him.

 The first was touch, rushing back full bodied and connected to every cell in his system.  He wasn't torn in half anymore, and there were warm, rough hands roaming over every inch of him as if checking to make sure everything was in place.  Fingers pressed into every scar, palms cupped his legs and arms and it was all so tender.  When one of the hands pressed into his shoulder, he knew it was Castiel.  It wasn't a question of how he knew because the hand fit the scar perfectly, and that strange feeling of a wire being connected to a circuit sparked in his belly and he knew the angel had him.  He was safe and it made him sigh in relief, though he didn't hear it, not yet.

 The next sense was taste, copper and spit and that dead taste when you wake up in the morning and everything is terrible and it almost hurts.  It made him gag, and he knew he was coughing something horrible, could feel the hacking rattle his lungs and Castiel's hands dragging him into a sitting position.  Then there was blessed water, pouring passed his lips, coating his tongue and easing the raw blistered feeling in his throat and chest.  When the water cleared, Dean realized the cup was glass because he could taste it on his lips as he coated them with a swipe of his tongue.  Castiel's fingers traced the path and he shivered, still to weak to reach out, although he felt Castiel at his back like a brace.

 Dean's hearing faded back in after that.  Wind roaring outside the building, rafters groaning under pressure and the soft hum of Castiel spinning Enochian off his tongue while his hands continued to roam over Dean's body.  The sound of fabric being stripped away, naked flesh pressed against his own and Castiel's heavy breathing against the back of his neck.  They were both bare and naked and possibly covered in all manner of strange fluids in an empty warehouse, but Dean never felt calmer in his entire life.  Castiel had him wrapped in his arms and he was safe.

 Sight came back in the span of a single blink, no blurring around the edges or squinting to clear the world, just sight.  The warehouse was lit by dozens upon dozens of candles, set up in circles and sigils with white paints marring the floor in elegant curves Dean knew were Castiel's doing.  His angel had a way with a paintbrush and a circle, but only if he had the time for it.  It scares Dean to wonder how long he might have been unconscious, but a warm flood of something was erupting in his chest and he looked down in time to see three white tendrils ease past his ribcage and put a flush of color into his skin.  As the flush creeps outward, Dean could feel more control in his limbs, Castiel still chanting Enochian behind him.

 Smell crashed into Dean with a strong inhale.  Lit candles, wood fire, rain on the horizon and mildew in the building.  Blood and guts and carcass are there too, but they don't bother Dean like they should, overpowered by the smell of Castiel.  The perpetual scent of his everlasting aftershave and fresh laundry detergent, of Dean's shampoo in his hair and Dean's soap on his skin.  The smell of sweat, presumably from himself, and something else, something Dean can't pinpoint but knows he'd smelled before.  It's too much to think about, so he let the thought drift away as more feeling eased back into his arms.  Castiel's fingers brush over his knuckles and Dean lifts his hand, capturing Castiel's and bringing it close.

 Dean felt feathers brush his shoulders for a split second, and he was sure he was imagining them because Castiel is very private about his wings.  Then again, they're both naked in a warehouse surrounded by candles while Castiel preforms who knows what type of ritual, so maybe they were beyond that.  When all the feeling returned to his limbs, his skin and body felt awake.  Castiel stopped chanting, pressing his lips to the back of Dean's neck.

 "Are you alright?" Castiel asked.  It's louder than the chanting, more alive but still warm and everything Dean recognizes with Castiel.  He nodded, turning his head to brush his nose against Castiel's jaw.  They smile at one another when they meet, bright blue eyes that are so obviously tired and around the edges filled with love. "I'm glad." Castiel leaned in, kissing Dean's forehead.  His lips lingered against Dean's skin, and it's a sort of thrill.  Dean reached one hand up, fingers sliding through Castiel's messy hair as he rubbing at his scalp. "No, Dean, I'm fine.  I might be tired, I had to transfuse my grace into you." Castiel smiled again.

 Dean leaned forward, pressing his own lips to Castiel's cheek and then again to the corner of his mouth.  Castiel's lips were rough when they meet Dean's, cracked and dry but quickly covered in spit because neither of them were delicate kissers.  It was messy and wet while still being awkward because neither of them could get the angle just right, but it was enough to send a shiver running down Dean's spine.  It was mostly nuzzling when Dean broke apart for air, because he knew Castiel would kiss him like he didn't know what oxygen was if Dean let him.  As tempting as that may have been, Dean had just survived _another_ near death experience, so he knew he'd have to hold off on the suffocating kisses.

 Castiel squeezed Dean's hand in his own as he brought it to his mouth to kiss where their fingers joined, reverent in the way he seemed to praise any connection he got with Dean.  It wasn't something that needed explaining, it was just them sharing everything.  Dean felt a small pool of something forming in his chest, like a full belly only higher up his torso, growing with warmth and contentment.  Castiel looked up when Dean caught his attention with a wave of his free hand, tapping his chest in question.

 "That would be my grace, it's looking for a place to settle." Castiel explained with that same smile.  Dean returned it with one of his own, leaning back against the angel's bare skin and letting him kiss all the aches away.  It took a moment for him to get comfortable but he pressed himself against Castiel's hips with a smirk, feeling the gasp on his skin before he heard it by his ear.  It got the desired reaction from the angel, the too close contact made Dean feel Castiel's cock starting to swell against his ass.

 Dean squirmed a bit, relaxing when Castiel grabbed his hip and forced him back so they were settled as close as they could get.  Castiel leaned over, breaking the hold he had on Dean's hand and rubbed circles into his hips, kissing along his shoulder and sucking a bruise his shirt would cover later.  Dean arched his back, eyes closing as Castiel's hands moved from his hips to the top of his thighs.  He trailed his fingers over the inside of Dean's thighs, just the faintest hint of touch before he let one hand rest there while the other rose up to brush against Dean's lips.  Dean smirked, kissing the two fingers pressed against his bottom lip before he licked them and drew them between into his mouth.

 Dean knew how this game was played, after all, he taught the angel every trick he knew.  He made sure both of Castiel's fingers were dripping before he pulled back, letting his head rest on Castiel's shoulder as the angel worked his thighs apart with his dry hand.  Dean spread his legs easily, eager to have the contact and buzzing with anticipation as the grace in his chest swelled.  Castiel was slow, trailing his fingers down Dean's chest and flicking at one nipple before sliding the rest of the way down to Dean's cock.  He ran his fingers over the shaft, pleased as it twitched and Dean gave a soft grunt as he slid his hand lower.

 "You're sure?" Castiel asked him, fingers poised and ready.  Dean huffed and nodded, leaning back to kiss Castiel's jaw.  It was the biggest reassurance Dean could make, and Castiel nuzzled his nose against Dean's cheek before letting one of his fingers slide into him.  Dean took a deep breath, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip while his body got used to the sensation.  It didn't take long, and Castiel was easing his finger in and out at a leisurely pace, taking his time with Dean.  His second finger joined soon after and Dean shivered, spitting into his own palm and wrapping his hand around his cock.  With each thrust, Dean rocked his hips back to meet Castiel's fingers, the motion bucking his cock into his fist when Castiel pushed forward.

 Castiel twisted his wrist, spreading his fingers and thrusting faster, startling Dean's rhythm to a halt as he groaned.  His angel was the slow and gentle type, he hadn't really liked rough sex.  Castiel liked taking his time and easing Dean into things, but urgency was underlining the tone tonight and Dean didn't blame him.  He grunted at a particularly wide spread of the angels fingers and grabbed the base of his cock, his other hand cupping his balls as he started to pant.

 "Think you're ready?" Castiel asked him suddenly.  Dean was almost startled, but didn't let it show.  He relaxed again, hiking one of his knees up and spreading his legs apart wider.

 "Yeah, Cas, I'm ready." Dean murmured.  His speech had come back as if it had never left, and to be honest Dean really didn't think it had.  Castiel hummed happily, cock swollen against Dean's ass and nudging against him until Dean raised his hips.  Castiel pulled his fingers out and spit into his palm a few times, using that hand as a guide while the other held onto Dean's hips as he lined his cock against Dean's hole.

 "Do you want a condom?  More lube?" Castiel paused, suddenly hesitant with the tip of his cock pressed against Dean.

 "Cas... just, fuck me." Dean tried to keep his voice steady.  He hoped that aggravated edge of cockblocked Winchester didn't slide through, because that was a mood killer if he'd ever known one.  Castiel seemed unperturbed though, and Dean gasped when the angel pushed his cock up and forced Dean down.  He panted though it, squirming until he felt Castiel bottom out, still working his cock so he wouldn't loose himself to the burn.  Time passed agonizingly slowly before Castiel would move, rocking his hips the best he could with their position.  With a grunt, and great reluctance, Dean leaned forward and braced one hand on the concrete of the warehouse floor.  His body was bent over, giving Castiel the room he needed to start thrusting in and out, Dean's breath shattering as it reached the top of his throat.

 Castiel was slow with his movements, but they weren't easy.  At one point Dean had to abandon the hand wrapped around his cock to place both hands on the floor to keep himself from tumbling down, biting his lips bloody as he tried to keep in a moan.  Castiel was making the sweetest noises behind him, gasping Dean's name before he bent over to kiss the back of his neck and bite at his shoulder.  His hand moved quickly, covering Dean's cock as his hips speed their movements, the pace quicker and still just as delicious.  Dean felt mortified when he moaned, nails scraping grit across the floor while Castiel muttered a litany of things against his skin, his hips starting to stutter.

 Dean couldn't help it, he smirked and clenched around Castiel while gasping his name.  It always did the angel in when he was close, and he felt teeth sink into his neck as Castiel fucked into him and came, one hand still jerking his cock while the other made finger shaped bruises on his hips.  Dean grunted when he felt Castiel shiver against him, knowing the angel was spent and he still had a ways to go.  He wasn't expecting Castiel to pull him back to his chest after pulling out, sprawl them both backwards and pick up speed with his hand.  He also wasn't expecting Castiel to slide his fingers back inside of him and rub against his prostate, kiss along his cheek until their mouths met.

 Dean came with a startled cry, noise dampened by Castiel's lips and tongue.  He felt his entire body shiver right down to his toes, and he knew he was done for all over again.  There was blood sliding down the front of his chest, just a thin line from his neck where Castiel had bitten, and he couldn't be bothered about it if he tried.  Dean was fucked out, sated, and wrapped in the arms of an angel after nearly dying.

 Again.

 Today was looking to be a good one.


End file.
